I need to get away

I keep on telling myself, and telling you, that I need to leave this place, that I need a holiday. Yet there's not much I can do about it, at the moment. I'm doing what I can to study, and achieve the grades that I want. If I can get myself into uni, I'll be okay from there on. Finding a job may be challenging, but right now no challenges matches to that of coexisting with my parents.

You know, home is meant to be a place where you can relax, enjoy the company of family and be understood and tolerated. Not in my house. I'd almost rather be anywhere else. I'd prefer the cold politeness of a stranger than the hostile familiarity my parents offer me. Almost as soon as I got home today, my Mother started an argument with me. She wanted to use my phone to call someone, and I let her do that. I took her to the keypad, she then pressed something, messed up, and started pressing random buttons. Then she was all frantic, "WHAT DO I DO TO GET BACK? I JUST PRESSED SOMETHING AND NOW I'M AT THIS SCREEN." Fuck, I hate it when people panic. Like, as if it's not annoying enough that you messed up, now you're panicking. I took the phone off her and got her back to where she wanted, saying, "If you don't know how to use it, don't just press random buttons..."

Then she went off at me, because I said that. Though I guess I can understand why she was so angry, I still think it was uncalled for. She snatched the phone away from my hands, and said "I'LL JUST THROW THIS THING AWAY THEN." Naturally I was all like "wtf?" Then I told her to stop being so worked up and unreasonable. Maybe I shouldn't have said that, but it made her more mad. Apparently when she asked me to do her homework last night, I appeared bored and exasperated. And apparently just then, I had the same expression on my face, and she said it looked like I hated what I was doing.

Well, she go that right. God forgive me for not wanting to do my mother's homework when I was so tired myself. "I DON'T BELIEVE YOU'RE THAT BUSY" was all my Mother had to offer. She keeps on telling me stories about how every time she calls on her friend, she sees her friend's daughter helping her bake stuff. Now, her friend's daughter is my classmate, and she has better grades than me. That's probably why Mum doesn't believe that I'm busy. But you know what, she likes baking. So helping her mother bake is like, relieve from work for her, because at least she's doing something she likes. Though it may sound strange, I do not consider doing my Mother's homework as stress relief.

I was furious inside, when she said that she didn't believe I was that busy. Well, believe it or not, it wasn't my problem,  at least I  know how I'm feeling right now, and I understand why I'm doing everything I do. I told her she can believe what she wanted, and she stormed off in fury. Whilst I can cognitively understand why she was so upset, I really cannot sympathize. Maybe she thinks I'm treating her as an inferior being, because she's technology illiterate. I'm pretty sure she only sees it that way because she's insecure. Oh well, not much I can do about it. She's so sensitive, and sooo fucking overly-emotional. Her solution to every problem is to raise her voice and justify why it isn't her fault. Every single "discussion" I've had with her has involved her raising her voice and me eventually shutting up, because I realize resistance is futile.

I don't know why I'm having such a difficult relationship with my parents. Though I wouldn't call myself the most popular kid in school, I know that most people like me. That's testament to my social skills. Why then, do I fail at getting along with my parents? Usually at my age people grow out of their teenage rebellion. I don't feel as if I've ever lived a phase of rebellion against my parents, but I am now suffering discontent. I hate being in this house, I hate their company, I would literally rather face a brick wall.

Anywhere is better than "home".